{"id":126,"date":"2016-10-26T18:46:14","date_gmt":"2016-10-26T16:46:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blackamerica.tagesspiegel.de\/?page_id=126"},"modified":"2016-11-08T12:19:57","modified_gmt":"2016-11-08T11:19:57","slug":"7-norris-henderson-ex-haeftling-gegen-den-gefaengnisstaat","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/blackamerica.tagesspiegel.de\/en\/7-norris-henderson-ex-haeftling-gegen-den-gefaengnisstaat\/","title":{"rendered":"7. Norris Henderson, Formerly Incarcerated – Against the Prison-State"},"content":{"rendered":"
Norris Henderson clearly remembers the day in 2004, when he was allowed to leave \u201cAngola\u201d after spending 27 years in Louisiana\u2019s largest high security prison for a crime he says he didn\u2019t commit. He stepped out onto the driveway. His wife was waiting in a car to pick him up. That moment, the gate opened, and a prison van drove past, taking inmates to court-hearings in New Orleans. They waved and knocked on the windows and Norris waved back. “Just a few days ago, I had been on that van, going to my last hearing. Now I was out, getting into a car. I realized I was on the other side now. It felt surreal.\u201d<\/p>\n
Even in September, New Orleans is tropical.\u00a0On the bus that takes me to the offices of \u201cVote Nola\u201d, I turn my face to the open window, greedily inhaling the late summer sweetness. I\u2019m the only white person on the bus. Vote\u2019s offices are situated on St. Bernard Boulevard, a quiet area with small, Southern style wood houses surrounded by gardens full of abundantly blooming flowers on the brink of the bad part of the city.<\/p>\n
In a large, sunny office space, Norris looks somewhat lost at his desk near the entrance. He founded \u201cVoice of the Ex-Offender \u2013 Vote\u201d a year after his release from Angola. Today, it\u2019s an important advocacy group which is heard by committees and task forces working to reduce America\u2019s mass incarceration both in Louisiana and on the federal level.<\/p>\n
Norris, 58 now, is wearing a red hat and a football shirt that\u2019s two sizes too large. It\u2019s got the number 7 on its back, Colin Kaepernick’s number, the black San Francisco 49er quarterback who recently refused to stand and put his hand to his heart during the national anthem. Instead he knelt, protesting about police violence against black people in America.<\/p>\n
Louisiana is the state with the highest incarceration rate in the United States. Over 800 out of 100.000 inhabitants live in jail, a total of 36,300 people in 2016. In Germany, it\u2019s only 78 out of 100.000. Louisiana is the sad incarceration champion in a nation that is the world\u2019s incarceration champion. No other nation locks up as high a percentage of its citizens as America. African Americans are disproportionately affected. \u201cOne out of 14 black men from New Orleans is in prison\u201d, says Norris. \u201cOn the national level, we make up 35 percent of the prison population, while we make up only 13 percent of the overall US-population.\u201d<\/p>\n
When I was waiting for a street-car that morning, a huge white guy in a stained salmon colored shirt, his white hair slicked back into a pony tail, stood beside me. He started off the conversation on an odd compliment (\u201cyou got beautiful skin\u201d) and asked what I was up to in New Orleans. I said I was interested in the reason\u2019s for Louisiana\u2019s high incarceration rate. \u201cYou know why that is? It\u2019s real easy\u201d, he says. \u201cWe got the most criminals. Saturday night they shot six people, one got killed. Never go North of St. Bernard\u201d, he adds, vaguely pointing in the direction I was going. \u201cYou\u2019ll get killed. This ain\u2019t Disneyland.\u201d<\/p>\n
The reasons for America\u2019s incarceration epidemic are manifold with its origins going back decades. It is a self-perpetuating and self-enhancing system. As with many others, Norris Henderson sees high penalties for minor offenses, such as possessing small quantities of drugs or drug usage. The hard sentencing goes back to the \u201cWar on Drugs\u201d started by Richard Nixon in the early seventies, and his law-and-order-policies were perpetuated and invigorated by Nixon\u2019s successors, not least by Bill Clinton\u2019s 1994 Violent Crime and Law Enforcement Act. It is one of the reasons why Hillary Clinton has a truly hard time winning the hearts of African American voters. “When I was in prison, only one of three convicted for drug offenses was in there for profiting\u201d, says Norris. \u201cThe others were in because they had used drugs.”<\/p>\n
Louisiana has a tradition of particularly fierce law-enforcement against drug abuses. \u201cIt’s a cat and dog race in the legislative body\u201d, Norris says. \u201cOh, you want to put a penalty of 10 on that? I’ll make it fourteen!” Louisiana also has a very high number of private prisons that host inmates from federal prisons for money. That, too, plus a lack of rehabilitation, runs up the numbers.<\/p>\n
Norris was arrested and sentenced for murder in 1977, a verdict that was overturned as unlawful in 2004 after the Supreme Court ruled that the type of hearsay-accusation that was used during his trial could no longer be used as evidence. Norris believes that less people would be convicted, if the jurors knew what prison is like, but usually, ex-prisoners and their relatives are excluded from juries. Still, Norris is clearly reluctant to speak about his experiences in Angola.<\/p>\n
Angola is one of America\u2019s most infamous prisons. I have tried to gain access to this or another correctional facility in Louisiana, but my request is still being \u201cconsidered\u201d by the Department of Corrections today. Angola sits a two-hour -drive outside of New Orleans on a former slave plantation. “It\u2019s basically a farm”, says Norris. 5000 prisoners live and work there. \u201cOn a typical day, you walk out five miles to the field; then you walk five miles back for lunch. Then same thing again in the afternoon.”<\/p>\n
Norris worked in the fields for the first 90 days. As a trained mechanic, he was needed at the work-shop. Later, he worked in the prison library. Angola is known for its violence. But when I ask Norris about it, he just affirms that the conditions are brutal. Then he falls silent for a while.<\/p>\n
Earlier during my journey, I sat on a bench in a hotel-parking-lot with another ex-convict, who would like to be known as Joe-Joe in this story. We are hundreds of miles away from New Orleans, at the Hilton Airport Hotel in Oakland, California. Norris Henderson has come to Oakland for a conference \u2013 it\u2019s the first time activist ex-convicts from all over the country have come together to join forces in their struggle for prison- and justice reform. Norris was very excited all morning, pacing around, chatting, and I have lost him. That\u2019s how I ended up out in the sun with Joe-Joe.<\/p>\n
Many prisoners are reluctant to talk about prison-life. It\u2019s a separate world they try to leave behind as best as they can. Joe-Joe\u2019s account of his time in Folsom prison and Deuel Vocational Institution, however, is detailed.<\/p>\n